Humanity, the Cycle
by Merci Monsieur
Summary: Jordan Harlem is fresh out of the FBI Academy at twenty-three and is requested to join Hotch's team at the BAU. Follow Jordan as life trails behind her, in all of its tragedy, sorrow, happiness, and hope. M for graphic content.
1. Prologue

**BEGINNING NOTE/WARNING:** There is little to no romance in the beginning of this story; eventual LxOC; not OC-centric, instead this story is third person omniscient, following in the footsteps of Criminal Minds (and Death Note as well, I suppose); explores human behavior, meaning this story will have scenes heavy with thought, emotion, and proposing and (hopefully) occasionally answering the ever-present question _why_. This story is not for readers who have a short attention span, or are bored easily.

**This story is for mature audiences only. Contains graphic content and foul language.**

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><p><strong>DISCLAIMER: <strong>I do not own Criminal Minds, or Death Note. The events, cases, and the original character written of within are fictious; therefore, any similarities perceived by the reader are hereby discredited.

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><p><em><strong>Prologue<strong>_

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><p><strong>RYTHMICALLY, THE<strong> blond drummed the fingers of her right hand against her thigh; her left hand was taking lead of driving: she drove and wrote with her left hand, using her right as the dominant for every other task. She was breathing heavily, heart fiercely rapping against her ribs, hands trembling ever so slightly. The last symptom of her current physical condition might have been, in all honesty, a hallmark sign of her sleep-deprived body. She did not concentrate on this, however: she forced all of her attention on containing the thunderhead roiling in her abdomen.

She took in a deep breath to calm herself, held it for eight seconds... then let it out for another count of eight seconds. The breath was shaky, unsettling. Closing her eyes for a moment, she silently chastised herself for her lack of self-control. An enormous blare sounded and her eyes snapped open. She saw that she was in the middle of McCarthy's intersection with Fuller Road, about to be T-boned by a car that had the right-of-way. She slammed on the breaks, throwing her chest into the steering wheel, but did not lose control (no, she could not lose control again); yanking the wheel to the right, she narrowly skirted against the side of the taxi before her.

"The _hell's_ your prob'm, lady?" The taxi driver threw a rude hand gesture her way, then sped off East, down Fuller ahead of her. In the back of the car, she saw the flash of a mortified woman. She concentrated on her, her eyes wide like saucers, her face distorted in terror. She could hear the woman panting, feel it against her very own neck. _She__- was- her. _More blaring: honking from behind her. She wretched the wheel around and continued onward, trailing far behind the angry taxi.

"_Damn it_, Harlem." A coarse whisper escaped her chapped lips; she began picking at the skin of her right thumb with the corresponding index finger. She had seen the look on that woman's face so many times in the last twelve days... it was in the mirror, painted behind her eye lids, and danced in her dreams with an inappropriate grace.

The rest of her drive was an uneventful ten minutes. Turning into a parking lot teeming with navy blue SUVs, she reached her destination: FBI Headquarters, Quantico, Virginia. Parking was easy enough to find. Making her way up to the office, however, was another beast altogether.

She picked at her fingers with more intensity, feeling the burn that meant she had peeled back enough skin to cause bleeding. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat as painlessly as she could, which was not much. This was normal. This she was able to deal with. What she was about to do... It contradicted her entire personality and what she stood for and vowed to do.

_Nap-nap, nap-nap._ She jolted. Looking up with wide eyes, she saw Spencer Reid had knocked on the window of her car. He obviously saw the terror strewn across her facial features, because he raised his hands and took a step back.

"Hey, Jordan," he began in his normal timid approach, muffled and barely heard through the thick glass, "you okay?" His eyebrows knitted together as he analyzed her. She gritted her teeth and nodded her head fervently. Spencer stepped back as she pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the door. She stepped outside, squinting at the sting of raw light. The door _clump_edshut behind her.

"Are you sure?" He queried, examining further. She locked eyes with his, staring deep into the liquid, youthful brown orbs. She held it for a second too long, just one negligible second, then looked up at the building absently. She hoped he understood the meaning. She then let her eyes dart to the water in the East. _Please see it, _she thought. _Please understand... please don't make me say it... please, Spencer..._ "Jordan..." His voice was low.

Jordan threw her arms around him, clenching her wrists behind his neck. She stood on her toes to compensate the difference in height. Slowly, he reciprocated the gesture. _Thank you..._

"I, uh-" Jordan began with a quick sniffle, pulling away- "I'm going to talk to Hotch. The... the thing is... I can't... I need... Spencer..." _Why is this so hard?_ She closed her eyes again, attempting to control herself and her emotions.

"Jordan, are you-"

"Yes," her voice broke. Jordan looked up at him, taking in his features. A slight breeze caught in his sandy locks, ensnaring itself and battling its way out. His jaw clenched, straining the muscles and arteries in his neck, and he pursed his lips.

"Please, don't," was his only quiet reply.

Spencer Reid was her best friend; her one tie to sanity; the only thing that mattered in life to her- the only thing that should have mattered to anyone, anywhere, ever. And she was leaving him. Was this harm to herself or him? Both? Neither? Spencer looked at Jordan with such devastation that her throat began to throb, and she hiccuped. "_I- can't- take it anymore,"_ she moaned with aching slowness. Spencer opened his arms instinctively, allowing Jordan to bury her face in his ready chest. He rested his cheek on top of her messy blond hair, so similar to his own. She had not bothered to brush it that morning.

In the quickest moment Jordan had ever experienced in her life, she thought she heard him cough back a sob. But these thoughts were dispelled by her own, very real, sobs.

**0**o-o-o-o**0**o-o-o-o**0**

Jordan's heart pounded fiercely in her chest as the elevator ascended. She asked Spencer to allow her to go through with this endeavor alone. He agreed, by all means reluctantly, but he agreed nonetheless. He knew how much this meant to her, even though it broke his heart.

Jordan's chest grew colder and colder, tighter and tighter, and with each passing second she thought she was going to suffocate.

_Ping._

The doors crawled open.

"Oh, Harlem! Morning, girlie," Penelope Garcia smiled at her dear friend as she stepped into the lobby. Jordan attempted to return the smile, failed, then awkwardly hobbled off. It was a slow walk, but one that took the energy and life straight out of her soul. Each step felt like she carried a decade around her legs, each one aging her, sucking away her life and vigor- if she had any left, that is. The pounding of her invisible time-shackles could be heard with a rumbling vibration in her ears, and felt with the powerful slam of a sledgehammer in her chest. Knees wobbling, Jordan cautiously made her way across the sudden vastness of the office center. "H-Harlem?" Garcia anxiously called from behind. Jordan felt Garcia's worried eyes burning into her back; she could feel the very marrow within her bones blazing.

"Hey, Harlem. Where's Reid?" Derek Morgan stepped in front of her, intercepting her path to Hotch's office. Jordan's breath caught in her throat. He had to make this so much harder for her; unintentionally, yes, but still all the more difficult. She could not meet his eyes. "Harlem? What's the matter, kid?" Jordan tried to bring her eyes to at _least _his chin, but could not. And even though their eyes never met, he could see the glisten of diamonds behind her eyes.

"Do you need to talk?" He threw a handful of files onto his already file-strewn desk. "I'm free, Harlem. You hear me? If you need to ta-"

"Morgan, _stop._" She felt her blink rate speed up. Shutting her eyes, she took a deep breath.

"What's bugging you, kid?" Derek's phone beeped. He pulled it out. Simply because he was worried about Jordan's well-being, he was going to forsake the call of duty. However, the message must have been about her, Jordan rightly assumed, for he took a double-take, then let her by. "Will you talk to me later?" His voice was low, as was his head. She was finally able to make eye contact.

"I'm not sure." Her voice was weak and even quieter.

"That's no answer, Jordan. You're scarin' me, kid. Talk to me. Tell me you're gonna' explain to me what's eatin' you later." Jordan sniffed. His kindness touched her heart, as it always had and always would. She sniffed again. _I'll miss you so much, __Morgan__._ She nodded weakly. "That's my girl-" he gripped her shoulder and forced eye contact upon her- "you're strong, you're brave -one of the bravest people I've ever known-, whatever's at you... you can handle it... hear me, Jordan?" She nodded,

Derek patting her head, like the little girl- little _sister_, he had always treated her as.

"Thank you, Morgan..." And he let her by. Out of the corner of her eye, Jordan saw JJ, Penelope, and Emily eying her worriedly. She ignored them and walked up the steps to the line of doors. And as she crossed the threshold bearing at least a dozen doors, she saw Spencer with his hand in his pocket, fumbling with... a phone, she decided.

With great anxiety, she opened the door to Aaron Hotchner's office and shut it quietly behind her.

For some reason, the click of the door set something off inside her. It was as if she knew that it was going to be alright. Maybe it was the fact that the cloud of looming insanity that she was so sure just days ago was going to swallow her whole, had finally dissipated. But whatever it actually might have been, did not matter. She had made a decision, something she hadn't been able to do her entire life. But she had finally made one.

Too little, too late... who would ever know?

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><p><strong>A<strong>**UTHOR'S ****N****OTE****:** Hmm... It's a start, right? :)

For the time being, this story will be CM-centric, with little to no romance. I just love Criminal Minds so much, I had to write a fic with it. :) Please enjoy this story. :)

I will try to keep the characters as in-character as I possibly can. But seeing as how there is an OC, I'll have to recreate the team's dynamic. Only just tweak it a little, though. ;)

Any MorganxReids out there? c:

And to perk the interest of you all some more, care to guess what our little OC Jordan was up to in Hotch's office? And what were Spencer and Jordan talking about? Find out later in the story at some undecided and most likely completely random point! o:

**BONUS:** No, I will not tell you when this story is over. No, I will not tell you which chapter contains the explanation of the prologue. No, Santa Claus does not exist. I'm sorry, but... -shakes head- :s

Review!

Merci~ \m/


	2. Part One

_**PART ONE**_

_Renewed Vigor_

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><em>

**0**o-o-o-o**0**o-o-o-o**0**

**.**

"_All glory comes from daring to begin."_

_-Eugene F. Ware_


	3. Chapter One

_**Chapter One**_

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><p><em><strong>Eleven days earlier<strong>_

_**Monday, April 5, 2004**_

_**6:48 P.M.**_

**SSA ****UNIT **Chief Aaron Hotchner stacked files upon one another in the crook of his arm. He was helping JJ, formally known as Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, clean up the mess of paperwork on the jet the Behavioral Analysis Unit, a.k.a. BAU, used to travel cross-country and solve federal cases involving serial murders. The jet was a mess from anyone's point of view. Their latest case had taken them to Salt Lake City, Utah, where a series of gruesome murders had kept them under constant stress (and fear, though none of the team would ever admit to the feeling) for almost a month. Now back in Quantico, Virginia, each of them hoped to have the weekend to themselves. Even SSA Dr. Spencer Reid vowed to read no more than five books over the next couple of days for the sake of rest.

"Thanks, Hotch," JJ smiled and took the files from Aaron's hands, "you should go home, too. Get some rest."

"You too, JJ." Aaron extended his arm at the open door of the jet, insisting on JJ stepping off the plane first.

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that. I have to pick out the next case for us," as Aaron playfully winced, JJ laughed, "yep, it's someone's job."

Again Aaron, being the gentleman he was, opened the door to the FBI headquarters and allowed JJ to go in first.

"I have some paperwork to complete before I go home, JJ. It's _s__omeone's_ job to tell the story of Katie, Amber, Hannah, and all of the other girls Juneburg murdered ." Aaron would have smiled jokingly, if he had not thought back on his words and the weight they carried. JJ's long blond hair fell across her face as she understood his thought process. She brushed her hair back and smiled, nodding empathetically. Turning for her office, JJ's heels clicked upon the blue carpet behind her as she locked herself in her office.

**0**o-o-o-o**0**o-o-o-o**0**

_**8:25 P.M.**_

An hour and a half later, Aaron still found himself on the Salt Lake Murders Case paperwork. He sighed, holding his face, imagining how warm Haley Hotchner's waiting arms would be when he would finally be able to lay down in bed for rest tonight. He lifted his head and began to work more vigorously, having found his muse. And still, two more hours later, Aaron was not even half-way done with his work. Deciding he should take a break -and that a full three cups of coffee would help just as much-, Aaron stood from his desk, cluttered with dozens of papers and files, and exited his office. And to his horrified shock, Aaron found his entire team still at their desks, filling out their own paperwork.

"What- are you guys doing? I told you all to go home." His voice was hard and, beneath its many thick layers, joyous and proud. SSA Derek Morgan, a handsome young African American man who came from Chicago, looked up at his team's leader and cocked an eyebrow.

"You think we were gonna' let you drown in this paperwork? Hell no, Hotch. We're your team and we're here for you, whether bullets and bodies are involved or not." Derek's set expression did not change, and he concentrated once more on the fat files of paperwork that were strewn across his desk. Aaron's salt-and-pepper hair almost visibly bristled.

Looking at the desks of each BAU member, Aaron found that everyone else's desk was just as obliterated with papers as his own was. Except for Spencer's, of course. Being able to read 20,000 words per minute, he had half as much paperwork as everyone else, though Aaron decided he took on twice as much because of this. The young doctor looked up, tossing back his stringy, paper-bag brown hair, as SSA Emily Prentiss spoke.

"Yeah, come one, Hotch. You seriously thought we were just gonna' leave you all of this on a Friday night?" Emily scrupulously stared at Aaron through her disheveled black hair.

"Honestly, you should be the one going home, Hotch," this came from Spencer, who smiled weakly, "none of us have a spouse waiting for us after work."

"Speak for yourself, Reid," Derek smirked, and Emily laughed.

"Spouse? If you call a strange twenty year old woman, who will _probably_ forget your name by morning, you meet at a random bar a spouse, then yeah," Spencer leaned forward, suddenly finding a blank document on Word transfixing.

"Yeah, you keep talkin', Reid. You're just jealous 'cause you can't get a lovely little lady for yourself."

"Jealous of syphilis? No, thanks..."

"O-h!" Emily cried out, laughing at Derek, who reigned in a flush. Derek licked his lips.

"You better watch yourself, pretty boy. Lying's not very nice, and paybacks-"

"-are a bitch. Yes, I think we've discussed this before, Derek. It's more humorous than frightening the umpteenth time around." Spencer flicked his eyes at his victim, studying his expression, before smirking at the amused and shocked Derek Morgan.

"Settle down, children, settle down. Don't make me call your moms," JJ, who had stepped out of her office for a cup of coffee, and also fixed Aaron his second, cocked an eyebrow at the immature, and very nearly inappropriate, banter issuing from the office valley, "you're both grown men, I'm sure you can behave like one." She laughed and tapped cups with Aaron.

"But JJ! He started it!" Spencer pointed at Derek, who shook his head, let out a gentle laugh, then stuck his head back into his paperwork. JJ waved Spencer off with an apologetic smile, shrugging lightly.

"Hey, before anyone gets too into their paperwork, I have... a case I would like for everyone to consider," JJ spoke delicately, knowing that none of them would be excited about the prospect of another case, "I know, I know; we all just got home from a back-breaker, but this one could really use our help as well."

"It's alright, JJ. Just give us the specifics and we can come in tomorrow and cover it." Aaron lifted his cup of coffee and pointed it to the faces of the rest of the tired team.

"What about Garcia?" Spencer looked around for their self-proclaimed 'Tech Wizard,' but could not find her.

"I'll call her later and let her know what's up," Aaron comforted. Spencer and Derek nodded, turning around in their chairs to face Aaron. Emily, however, was not yet fully satisfied with the situation.

"And the new girl, uh... what's her name-"

"Jordan Renae Harlem," Spencer's eyebrow twitched as he read over her file in his mind: an eidetic memory could come in handy when questions of identity arose. Emily eyed him with a slightly disturbed expression.

"Why do you-"

"Emily, Emily," Derek shook his head as though it were a lost cause. What _it_ was, however, Spencer could not rightly identify. Emily nodded her head tiredly.

"Anyway, Hotch... What're we gonna' do about her?" Emily looked from JJ to Aaron, who were both undecided on the issue. Finally, Aaron spoke up.

"Let's leave it up to her. I'll call her later as well, and see if she wants to start early." Emily nodded, and, finally contented, looked at JJ. "Go ahead, JJ," Aaron took a sip of his coffee; Spencer laced his hands on top of his crossed legs, leaning back to a more comfortable position in his chair; Derek leaned forward in his chair, an intense expression knitting his eyebrows together; and Emily rested her right arm on her desk, leaning into it; JJ set her coffee down and picked up the files she had laid down on the counter and walked over to the three SSAs, with Aaron behind her.

After the summary of the case, the team exchanged a glum look with one another. JJ uncomfortably shifted her weight from one foot to the other and looked at Aaron, who nodded.

"So, what do you guys think?" JJ almost felt self-conscious.

"I think these people really need our help," Derek clasped his hands together between his knees.

"Definitely," Emily nodded her head, "this guy is obviously _very_ angry. And with his sporadic time line, he seems to be trying to figure out what works best for him. When he finds his niche..."

"He won't stop; he'll keep going until he's run head first into his grave." Spencer looked at his team mates, hoping one of them would contradict his last statement. Nothing of the like happened, and Spencer nervously swallowed the lump in his throat.

"So, everybody in tomorrow morning at seven to cover the case," Aaron nodded and headed back to his office, "if any of you would like to spend the night here... you're more than welcome to." Aaron's voice was exhausted and disappointed. He had really hoped to grant his subordinates a pleasant weekend.

Sitting down at his desk, Aaron looked at the phone on top of it. He would make three phone calls tonight. One would break the hearts of his heart, the other should be classified as disturbing the peace, and the last one leading a young girl into a career she might surely regret taking on. Aaron decided he was very tired then, and did not know what to do about it.

So, he picked up his phone, broke his heart, disturbed the peace, and then set it down for a small intermittent break. He had broken his heart many times; he felt sick thinking it, but he was becoming numb to the crack in the asphalt that grew over half his heart. And calling their technical analyst Penelope Garcia was not all too difficult: she was ready and willing to help them. But for some reason, it was proving a difficult task to call newly-appointed SSA Dr. Jordan Harlem. _No, not _some_ reason._ He was leading her to hell. Aaron cast his thoughts away and picked up the phone.

**0**o-o-o-o**0**o-o-o-o**0**

_**10:58 P.M.**_

_Rr-rrr..._

_Rr-rrr..._

_Rr-rrr..._

_Tchk._

"Hello?"

"SSA Jordan Harlem, this is SSA Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner with the FBI. We spoke on the phone the other day?"

"Uh, yeah... um, yeah! Oh, Agent Hotchner! I-Is something wrong?"

"Not exactly. The team and I have a case to cover that was just brought to our attention-" _This late? These people are unstoppable..._ Jordan shivered at the thought of working alongside workaholics. "Agent Harlem?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Agent Hotchner! I was asleep and you woke me up and I'm just really frazzled right now..." Jordan sat up, her scraggly, dirty blond hair a messy halo around her scrunched up face.

"That's alright, Harlem. I do apologize for calling this late. If you would like, you don't have to accompany us on this case," a moment of small silence. Jordan took the time to think, sleepiness slowing down the process.

"Uh, _no,_ that's okay. I can be there..."

"Thank you, Agent Harlem. I'll see you then-"

"Wait, wait! What time?" Jordan brushed her hair behind her ear, her heart pounding nervously.

"...Tomorrow, seven a.m."

"Okay! Okay, sir! Thank you very much for calling. I will be there bright and early!"

"Thank you, Agent Harlem."

"And you, Mr. Hotchner," she slapped her hand over her mouth, cursing herself.

"...Good night." The line went dead.

"I did not just call him _mister Hotchner..._ Oh, God... what have I done..." Jordan fell back against her pillow, slapping herself. Humiliation burned bright against her pale cheeks, but this did not keep her from sleep.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong> I almost couldn't make myself write this, but... yay I did, right? I know it's a tad boring, sorry... It was prologue worthy as well, and I just wanted to include it. Hm. And each chapter will have no more than 2,000 words. Just... a thing I'm doing. Just feel like it.

Oh, and this is third person... not omniscient, per se. Let's just go with objective, I guess...

Review!

Merci~ \m/


	4. Chapter Two

_**Chapter Two**_

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><p><em><strong>Tuesday, April 6, 2004<strong>_

_**6:28 A.M.**_

**JORDAN YANKED** her luggage bag up and threw it into the back of her jeep. She jumped up to catch the handle and shut the vertically rising back door of her car. With her things stowed away, she walked across the dew-drenched lawn of the luxury apartment complex she resided in. Her apartment was on the third, and top-most, floor of the vanilla colored building. Jogging up the steps, Jordan hummed the lyrics of the song she was listening to, her green Skull Candies stuffed in her ears. Once inside, she fixed herself a cup of hot chocolate, placed in a metalloid to-go container, that had more marshmallows floating and melting in the hot drink than a little kid would want.

"Alright, that it?" Jordan checked over her mental list of all the things she needed. After a few seconds, she was finally satisfied and turned to leave, locking the door behind her.

After a pleasant twenty minute drive to work, Jordan parked her car in the front of the FBI headquarters, then strolled up the front steps of the gloomy building. Jordan wondered if it felt like a prison to anyone else who was in a one hundred mile proximity of the place.

As soon as Jordan stepped foot inside the waiting elevator in the sparsely filled lobby, someone shouted from behind: "Hold it! Hold it! Hold the elevator!" Immediately, Jordan stuck her foot out, in case the doors did decide to close before the man made it inside the elevator. He successful made it to the little box in time. Jordan smiled and nodded at the nondescript youth, and pressed a button on the number pad. Stepping out of the way, she gave her elevator-mate room to select his own floor. He waved her off with his free hand, his other holding a cup of coffee, and smiled.

"I'm on the same floor." Intrigued, Jordan decided to strike up a conversation with him. Before she could say anything, however, she began to scrutinize his appearance. He barely looked a few years older than her. He also had extremely similar hair to her own. Upon closer examination, Jordan realized who she was talking to.

"Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid...!" She gaped. She knew he was the youngest member of the BAU team -after Jordan, now-, but he looked perpetually young. He smiled and nodded.

"Nice to meet you, too, Special Agent Dr. Jordan Harlem," Spencer spoke with a cordially mocking tone, his wide lips twisted in a mirthful smirk, then dipped his head ever so slightly. "What brings you to the BAU at such a young age?" Spencer, already knowing the answer to this question, was simply attempting to be conversational. He was extremely proud of himself for not having rattled off some asinine statistic yet.

"I was requested by SSA Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner to join the team as soon as I graduated from the Academy. Same for you, right? I read your file." Spencer cocked an eyebrow at Jordan's smooth words. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you didn't do the same thing when you first joined the BAU," Jordan's facial expression was remarkably like that of a person sticking their tongue out, without sticking her tongue out. The elevator pinged, pulling in a pair of agents, who politely ignored the two profiler's conversation.

"Well... I guess..." Jordan laughed as Spencer pushed onward. "_Anyway_... so, you have a _doctorate?_ But aren't you only twenty-four years old?" Spencer looked at Jordan incredulously. However, they both knew how false Spencer's curiosities were. He had an eidetic memory and had read Jordan's file; of course he would know about her education. But Jordan would humor him, understanding his intentions. She wasn't a profiler for nothing.

"I graduated from high school when I was fifteen, started taking college classes at sixteen. Yadda-yadda-yadda... plenty of people have done it before." Jordan shrugged and smiled. Again, the elevator pinged, birthing the two strange agents into an empty hallway."I finished early, too. Because of the coarse load I took on. From the age of sixteen to eighteen, I had twenty-one credits a semester." Spencer's eyes widened at this.

"Wait, from sixteen to eighteen?" Spencer looked at Jordan, who had not heard (or rather, chose to ignore) Spencer's question. He wondered what the ages meant for her.

"I didn't have anything better to do. You know, li-" Jordan stopped, her mouth forming around the word. _No... no, I will not go there._ And she did not. The elevator dinged, permitting them access onto the floor of the BAU. They stepped into the hallway, nearly at the glass double-door entrance of the center of the BAU.

"Wait, what were you saying? I didn't-"

"Oh, I didn't say anything," Jordan shook her head, feigning innocence and elated that Spencer hadn't heard much.

"No, you said-"

"-nothing." She swiveled around, stopping immediately in front of him. She did not realize how short compared to him she was until then. The top of her head barely met his chin. Jordan smiled. Spencer, who nearly spilled his cup of coffee across his chest, winced at the terrible what-could-have-been in his mind.

"You know, there's not much information in your file," Spencer's voice was tense and quick as he recovered from the shock of near-third degree burns, "it's basically blank."

"Don't do this, Reid. Please." Jordan's voice was a whisper. "Most of my file is blank for a reason." She pursed her lips, holding steady eye contact with Spencer, who was anxiously trying to solve the puzzle of _Jordan Harlem_. Her answer-less, question-filled reply merely agitated him more. He did not question her further, though. Instead, he chose to honor her privacy. For the time being, that is.

"You know, we call him Hotch." Jordan eyed Spencer curiously. "Aaron Hotchner, I mean. It's his nickname." Spencer awkwardly nodded, insinuating an agreement had been reached. Jordan nodded as well. However, she had a feeling that this would not be the last she heard from Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid.

"Now," Jordan began, anxiously happy about the drastic subject change, but about to make her own conversational jump, "let's go meet the rest of the team. Where do you usually..."

Spencer led her to the conference room. As soon as Jordan stepped into the room, everyone fell silent. Jordan stared at each of them, frightened of them. Were they all as nice as Spencer?, she wondered. She hoped. Giving them a meek smile, and an equally meek wave, Jordan let out a nervous laugh.

"Hi- everyone... Um... I'm Special Agent Dr. Jordan Harlem?" She looked to Spencer, hoping she gave the right answer. He smiled and sat down at the round table. "I'm- the clinical psychologist for the team.." A pretty blond woman was the first to speak up. She stood, offering her hand to Jordan.

"My name's Jeniffer Jareau, but everyone calls me JJ. I'm the communication liaison for our team; I talk with the victim's family, the press, et cetera. It's nice to finally meet you," JJ smiled as Jordan took the waiting hand in her own. Jordan nodded fervently, nervous.

"Finally?" Jordan voiced, but was not heard. As soon as JJ let go, everyone stood, in turn.

"Derek Morgan- nice to meet you. My specialty is obsessional crimes. I also worked the bomb squad back in L.A." _Oh, he __i__s beautiful..._ Jordan stared at Derek, unrelenting in her hold of his hand. Jordan looked deep into his chocolate eyes, entranced by their beauty. And then, quickly realizing the horridly awkward position she had placed them both in, ripped her hand away from his as if it were infected with cooties.

"_My God_, Agent Morgan-" _you're so beautiful-_ "I'm so sorry." Her eyes were wide. She instinctively reached for her hot chocolate, but could not find it. Her frown deepened as she realized she left it at her apartment. And the packets were in her bag. And that their plane wouldn't be so nice as to have a hot chocolate maker... She felt deathly gloomy then.

"It's okay, kid... Are you... alright?" Derek eyed her. Jordan threw her face up, biting her lip with her lip. She had a terrible smile on her face that disturbed Derek.

"Oh, yeah. Just fine." She nodded her head, then turned to the next person in line. Observing everyone, she noted that they were all as beautiful as Derek.

"Special Agent Emily Prentiss. I'm pretty much the linguistics lady-" she shrugged- "It's nice to have you on the team. We've heard a lot about you- _you're a doctor, too? At twenty-four_?" Emily looked from Jordan to Spencer to Derek. "How in the _hell_ do you people do that?" She looked at Jordan again.

"Well, Spencer graduated from high school at twelve, and I at fifteen. Not yet legal adults, we didn't have bills to pay, or anything better to do than school work. And actually, I received my doctorate at nineteen..." Jordan's words did not comfort anybody. Derek placed a (_warm_) hand on Jordan's (_now warm and tingly_) shoulder. She looked up at him, surprised (_but excited and slightly aroused_).

"Please tell me you're not into statistics like the kid over here," his voice was desperate in a humorous way. Jordan smiled reassuringly.

"I hated that class, Morgan. Don't worry," she comforted by patting his (_sexy_) hand. Jordan had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud at herself. Derek, however, did not exercise self-control as freely as Jordan, and laughed.

"That's a relief... Just a nerd, huh?" Jordan smiled at Derek's words.

"Just a nerd."

"And _I_ am Mr. Aaron Hotchner." Jordan's face blew up in a blaze. Everyone turned to face Aaron with open mouths and questioning eyes.

"Hotch, why-"

"Don't ask." Jordan quickly interceded. Now it was Jordan's turn to be stared at. There was an awkward silence, in which Jordan wished Derek would put his hand on her shoulder again.

…

"Hello, hello, my heroic pygmy goats-" Jordan curiously eyed the blond lady who next entered the room, thankful for her sudden appearance, but disturbed by her words- "Oh, what do we have here?" She stared at Jordan, poking her in the forehead. Jordan blinked.

"Who-"

"Don't speak," she whispered, dragging her finger down Jordan's nose, "just listen and be blown away." Jordan turned to Spencer.

"Who-"

"Baby girl, play nice with the new kiddo." Derek raised an eyebrow, the new (_creepy_) blond lady copied him.

"Oh, you haven't even _heard_-" Jordan prodded Spencer.

"Who-"

"Alright, Garcia, on to the case," Aaron sat down at the table, gesturing for the rest of the team to do so as well. They each obeyed, filling up the seats. Garcia pulled out a remote and pointed it at the large television on the wall.

"Who wants to guess where you will all be going next? Spin the wheel of destiny!" Jordan leaned over to Spencer as the strange blond women threw her hands in the air.

"Who-"

"_Huntsville, Alabama_." Jordan jolted as everyone, except her and the disappointed looking blond lady, spoke in loud unison. Her ear nearly blown out by the close proximity of Spencer's loud voice, Jordan sat up and rubbed her ear. The blond woman looked at them sadly.

"Aw, you guys totally ruined all the fun," she bemoaned. "Anyway, yes! Huntsville, Alabama! I bet none of you knew! So, there has been a series of murders over the last few weeks in this quiet southern town."

"How do we know they're connected?" Derek questioned as soon as the woman's last sentence ended.

"They were all abducted from a bar where they either drank regularly, or worked at, and tortured and raped repeatedly before they were killed. But then... _coo-coo_. The first girl, kidnapped on the seventh of March, Marcy Stevens-" She punched a button on the remote, pulling up a photo of a horribly mutilated and disfigured body beside a beautiful brunette; she looked away just as the picture popped up on the screen, and Jordan suppressed her gag reflex- "was held for _four_ days, and then killed and dumped in Monte Seno, a park on the western edge of Huntsville-" She pulled up a photo of a beautiful forest- "on the eleventh." Jordan felt disgusted with herself for thinking the word 'beautiful' immediately after seeing the picture of a brutalized woman.

"For _five_ days, this guy was dormant. And then, on the eighteenth, Harley Radio-" A picture, as equally as disturbing as Marcy's, of a young blond woman showed on the screen- "was reported missing by her boyfriend. Her co-workers say she never returned from her 'lunch break,' though how a meal at seven P.M. can be considered 'lunch' is beyond me-"

"_Garcia_," Aaron warned politely. Jordan cocked an eyebrow, then resumed her thinking.

"Sorry, sir. Anyway, and so this guy's dormant, _again_, but this time only for _three_ days. On the twenty-sixth, they found Piper Smith-" the picture of a joyful red-head popped up alongside the photo of her dead body; for Jordan, this was the most disturbing- "in Monte Seno. She had been held for two days, tortured and raped for that entire period. But now, our guy starts to get a pattern going. Well, that's _my_ hypothesis...

"So, Stephanie Prudence-" _red-head, pretty, __disgusting remains_- "kidnapped on the twenty-eighth, killed and then dumped in Monte Seno on the thirty-first; Page Campbell-" _black hair, gorgeous smile, __disgusting remains_- "kidnapped two days later... yesterday. The investigation is at a stand-still now. They have no leads, and are in _desperate_ need of our help." She looked at everyone, nodding her head sadly.

"Well, victimology doesn't seem to be of any help... there's not much in common between any of them beside their beauty," Spencer looked at the files in his hands, comparing the photos.

"Maybe..." Jordan glanced at her own, then put herself in the killer's position. "At what time were the women kidnapped?" Jordan looked up with inquisition at the blond lady holding the remote, who looked down at her own papers.

"Um, there's no way to tell exactly... the earliest was seven P.M., the latest was nine P.M... open to speculation, of course... this is just what camera's have picked up and people reported-"

"That's alright, Garcia. Okay everybody, plane leaves for Huntsville in an hour. Please be ready- if at all, _before_ that time so we can get there as soon as possible."

"If the time line is present, as Garcia says, we could be lookin' at finding another body in three days." Derek looked at his colleagues, but did not find one hint of dissent.

"Let's hope that's not true," Aaron sighed and opened the door to leave the room. Jordan watched everyone, waiting to be last.

"Hey, aren't you coming?" Spencer stopped in the door way, turning around. Hand over her mouth, Jordan looked up at him, slightly surprised by his presence.

"Oh, yeah, in sec," she removed her hand from her face, smiling reassuringly, then nodded her head as Spencer returned the smile and left. She set her face on her arms then, ignoring her turning stomach. She then quickly stood up, heading for her jeep and the hot chocolate packs within it. She then remembered she never got a satisfactory answer for as to who that weird blond woman was.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong> Oh, mother balls, I broke 2,000 -_-;; Oh well... much to be included in this chapter... anywho, what did you guys think about the character interactions?

Okay, I know how some phones don't show italics, so here's an explanation in case any of you read fanfic via mobile Internet: when Jordan was getting acquainted with the team, those words in parenthesis were italicized, meaning, she thought them. It wasn't me being a stupid author, but Jordan being a... um... And I underlined that because I know underlined is showed on phones. And I wanted to make an emphasis there. So yeah. Explanation given. Thank you~ :)

**BONUS:** (For reference, see paragraph one) Okay, so... you know those things you put in your ears that help you listen to music? Well, I totally blitzed and forgot what the hell they were called when talking about them at the beginning of this chapter xD But I did remember a brand that made them. :3 So, yeah... and I now know that they are called ear buds. I was at Wal-Mart tonight (the 27th of November for all who care) ...and saw a sign... that said... EAR BUDS... and so yeah... -sigh-

Review!

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Merci~ \m/


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